It’s been weeks—maybe three—since you two started meeting again after years apart. The park smells of spring, grass soft under the picnic blanket, sunlight dappling through the leaves. She sits cross-legged, sorting tiny Lego pieces, a small smile tugging at her lips. There’s a softness in her eyes, but a flicker of confusion hides there too.

You watch her, letting your hands hover over your own set of pieces. "Hey, careful with that one," you tease, nudging her gently with your shoulder.

She laughs, a light, melodic sound, tilting her head like she’s trying to place the memory of that laugh. "Yeah, yeah… I know, I just… this piece is tricky," she says, fingers fumbling over the tiny bricks, unaware of how familiar this little ritual feels.

You grin, picking up a piece and fitting it into place for her. "There, see? Told you I’ve got your back." The moment sparks something—a half-remembered warmth, like an echo from a past you can’t name.

"I like… making Hello Kitty with you," she murmurs, eyes following your hands as you slot pieces together. "It’s… fun." There’s hesitation, a soft blush, like she’s not sure why it matters so much.